


Karma

by smallstarfox



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Anger, Angst, Crying, Depression, Dissociation, Emotional Hurt, Gen, Hallucinations, Internal Monologue, Mental Breakdown, Mental Instability, Past Lives, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Prompt Fill, Self-Destruction, Self-Hatred, Song: Karma (AJR)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:28:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24946141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smallstarfox/pseuds/smallstarfox
Summary: Set after the events of The Timeless Children, the Doctor struggles with coming to terms with everything she knows.
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor & The Doctor's TARDIS
Comments: 8
Kudos: 26





	Karma

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AngelBless](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelBless/gifts).



> Additional warnings for this being: **this can be read as triggering to anyone with mental health issues.**  
>  Please be careful if you are currently struggling or cannot deal with explorations of depression and other problems.
> 
> Now that I've put my warnings in place...  
> This fic is entirely based off an animatic that was created by the user AngelBless on Tumblr!  
> Not only is their artwork amazing as is, but this animatic is an absolute treasure.  
> I got permission from them to write something, and it has been incredibly cathartic.
> 
> I really hope you check them out. I'll drop a link at the bottom of this fic.

Silence. A slightly uneasy, creeping silence, spread throughout the TARDIS. The usual creaks and hums were barely there, there were no footsteps, not even a whisper of any kind of life. All of the lights were dimmed down, save for the faint golden glow of the crystalline pillars that rose up and crooked around the central console in a strange frame-like cocoon. Normally there would be the sounds of wheezes and groans, a ship brought to life by the promise of adventure and mystery. Four bodies scattered around, hands on controls, guiding the magnificent machine through all of time and space. But no, the magic had gone, and there was nothing left. Save for the Doctor. Still. Shoulders and neck pressed against the cold metal curves of the console, knees up to her chest as she simply sat. Stared. Gazed off into the distance. The bright shimmer of hazel-green eyes had faded away, leaving them dull and lifeless, focusing on nothing in particular except maybe the odd floating speck of dust. She herself was as still as the TARDIS - no longer filled with bundles of energy, a faded flame of her former self - letting out a weary sigh as she let her head fall back and make a quiet thud against the console. Solitude was not something she was known for, not in this incarnation, but then again...what other choice did she have except to barricade herself away with her own thoughts?

_ ‘I did everything you told me to...I’ve been good...I’ve been kind...I’ve been helpful, friendly...I’ve done everything that you aspired for me to be. So...why am I still feeling so empty inside?’ _

There was a hint of a smile on her face, born from an unusual moment of clarity in the calmness. Oh, she really had done everything she had been told. She had been laughing hard, finding the joys of the universe, experiencing every single moment. She had run fast, oh how she ran. Ran, and ran, and ran. So far, so long, so much running. From the bad, from the good, from everything and nothing at the same time. The Doctor had been kind - far too kind, but also not enough - and had done everything in her power to stay that way. Keep up the appearances to the outside world. Always trying to do the right thing, whatever was best for everyone else...and yet, more often than not...it was never quite the right thing for her. Her kindness had cost her so much, so much of herself, and she wasn’t really sure what to do with that thought. The thought that never seemed to leave her mind. No matter what she tried to do to get rid of it, the Doctor always sat and pondered; am I kind enough?

_ ‘I’ve been good, and kind, and helpful, but it’s getting harder. So much harder. I go everything right and yet nothing changes. Everything still hurts. It hurts, so much…’ _

Her face fell then, a grimace, a lurching feeling in the pit of her stomach. Like a weight had been dropped against her shoulders and another working its way down her throat. It was crushing, painful, worse than the feeling of high gravity. It was a strange weight, something new but also undoubtedly familiar. The Doctor had been weighed down by a great many things throughout their lives, and she was just the latest in a chain of events that never truly seemed to go anywhere at all. Forever burdened by the darkness threatening to swallow her whole, clinging to her body, taunting and teasing and promising to never let go. No matter how hard she tried to shake it. Why couldn’t anything good come her way?

_ ‘I deserve to be happy, don’t I? When do I get to be happy for once?’ _

She opened her eyes slowly, half-lidded, gazing down at the floor. Underneath the grated metal floor tiles was nothing. Just darkness. Staring back at her. Not even the hints of light around her could permeate it. It was like she was staring into her own soul - a neverending spate of darkness - a view she didn’t particularly enjoy thinking about for longer than necessary. The Doctor’s face turned again, brows knitting together in irritation. Frustration. She had never truly thought about her life that much, not really. It was pointless in a species that had little concept of death aside from the death of the self. Except, so much had thrown everything into question. So much of her life had been taken away from her - from them - and left her with nothing. Nothing to go on. No idea of how to feel, no way to process it all aside from internally. There was no point of reference, no books to read, no historical tomes. All she had were thoughts, vague memories, a feeling of something being taken from her. Nothing that anyone could ever begin to hope to understand, least of all her. She sighed again, head bouncing against the side of the console once more as melancholy took over.

_ ‘Where’s my karma?’ _

No sooner had the last thought raced around her mind, leaving trails and echoes in its wake, did she startle. There was a noise. Light. The TARDIS. The once dim room quietly sprang to life, the ambiance changing from a golden to a deep blue tone. The column around her pulsated in time to the beeps and whines of her ship, everything trying to gain her attention. It was a hint of sympathy - she could feel it, pulling her hearts and tugging her mind - mixed in with curiosity. Her ship was calling to her, concerned. Making sure she was alright. Could she ever be alright, though? The Doctor turned her head to the side, pushing herself a fraction away from the console, staring at the pulsing and taking in the sounds. How long had she been stuck in silence for? Minutes? Hours? Certainly it couldn’t be days...could it? Time had no meaning to her, it was just a thing that existed around her. It vibrated and changed and shifted like the tide, but it didn’t matter. There was no point keeping track of anything, especially when stuck inside her own little bubble of time.

“Are you asking me why I’m down here?”

Dropping one leg to the floor, the Doctor twisted around until she was looking more towards the console. She could feel the central column shifting up and down as the TARDIS hummed another response. Eyebrows raised in curiosity, she slowly dragged herself up off the floor, stumbling a little as she moved. Really, the Doctor had been down there for quite a long time, and her legs were starting to get a little atrophied from barely moving an inch. She took a few steps away from the console, trailing backwards until she was mostly equal distance between the first step down to the doors and the console itself. Really, she hadn’t expected the TARDIS to take notice of her at all, and quite frankly she wasn’t exactly prepared to answer her either.

“Ah, you know, just disappointed...every day and every night.”

The words came out before she even had a chance to register them, foreign and unusual on her tongue. It took a few seconds before the Doctor clocked what had even happened. She held one hand against her arm, clutching the fabric of her white undershirt tightly. Another series of blue flashes came, spreading throughout the TARDIS, along with a chorus of concerned chirps and chimes. Eyes wide, the Doctor backpedalled hard, holding her hands up in mock defeat, shoulders rising up slightly as the defensive stance kicked in.

“Fine! I’m fine. Everything’s fine. Totally fine. Nothing wrong at all.”

Sweat started to creep down the back of her neck as her hearts started to get louder and louder inside her head, banging and clattering against her ribs. Vulnerability was not her strong suit, not in any capacity. Not even to her own ship. The Doctor’s eyes fell to the side as she tented her fingers together.

“I’m not sure why I said that...don’t mind me, really.”

She tried her best to smile, tried to put the mask back on and go back to pretending that everything was okay. Her hands dropped to her sides as she continued to look at the floor, the door, anywhere that wasn't directly the TARDIS. Except she wasn’t about to be let off the hook that easy. Oh no, not having dropped such an unintentional bombshell. The blue lights came back, flashing incessantly as the sound of pleading whines and whistles caught the Doctor’s attention. She wasn’t in the mood to talk, not really, but her ship was not giving in. Twisting around and face set momentarily into a scowl amongst the flashing, she just...gave in. One hand came back up to wrap around her braces, once again clinging as if it were her only lifeline.

“It’s just that...I’ve been so good...so _good_ , and so _kind_.”

Her eyes lit up then, softer, weaker, like a frightened child. Her hand moved to rest over her hearts and take in the harsh beat through the fabric of her shirts.

“I just feel so empty inside, and I don’t know why.”

The Doctor’s face fell, eyes turning back to the floor as her arm dropped back down to her side. She was defeated, tired, broken. Worn down by everything. It didn’t make sense at all, not really. Why was she feeling so useless? The more she thought about her current life, the more she shrank into herself. Visibly winced, flinched, withdrew. She knew it was stupid. It was pathetic. Pointless. The Doctor knew that her TARDIS - her most beloved and faithful companion - was only trying to help. She was talking to her again, flashing and beeping and calling out to her but quite frankly, the Doctor was tired of it. She didn’t need telling she was acting out, being weird. She didn’t need to be so misunderstood. Why couldn’t she just be left to mope? Body growing taught, the Doctor threw out her arms and scowled, voice raising higher than the hushed whisper she had once used.

“I know! I’ve been so good, I’ve done so many brilliant things, but why is it getting so much harder? Why am I getting nothing from it?! Why am I just consistently being hurt?”

She could feel the rage boiling inside her, crashing over all the feelings of helplessness and upset. Her voice grew louder and louder still as she vented her frustrations, hands flying into her hair and tugging hard as she hunched over and desperately tried to funnel all the dark thoughts back. The Doctor wanted them to go away, she didn’t want to have to pay attention to them. She didn’t want to have to think about how so much of her life had been taken away from her, about how she was ungrateful for being so distraught about everything. Tears started to well in the corners of her eyes as the TARDIS’s telepathic matrix honed in on her emotions. The room began to darken, lights glowing red, flashing in time to the rhythm of her hearts as she tried so desperately to make the pain go away just through sheer force of will alone. Clenching her jaw, she focused and pushed and forced down everything she was feeling, compartmentalising it away as just another thing to deal with later. Or, she would have done. The TARDIS’ lights quickly switched to blue as the sentient ship beeped and whistled to get her attention. The Doctor’s eyes snapped open, hands loosening in her hair slightly as she stared at the floor. She honed in on the voice in her head, straightening herself out and brandishing her arms at her side as she gazed up at the central column.

“What? Am I normal or not?”

She lifted her hands and clutched her chest, feeling the erratic beat and frowning.

“Or am I just crazy? Crazier than everyone else? Go on, tell me!”

The Doctor threw one arm out to the side, striding forward and yelling at the TARDIS. The swathe of rage wasn’t fading, and she really did hate having a fight with her oldest companion, but she needed it. She needed the release. To vent. To let the mask slip and really be herself for once. Oh, there was so much darkness swirling around inside her and obscuring any rational thought, she couldn’t take it anymore. Striding forward with thunderous steps, the Doctor lurched forward and slammed her hands down against the console, not even flinching as the telepathic circuits once again made the lights flash a deep red.

“I’ve done everything right! Everything!”

Her throat was growing sore from shouting, palms of her hands aching from the force she used to hit the console, shoulders shaking as she desperately tried to hold onto something - anything - to stop spiralling further and further down. But it was a battle she had already lost. She turned her head sharply to the mirrored screen that sat to her right. A small part of her, the only bit still clinging to sanity, was terrified by what she saw. So much anger and rage and pain etched into her face, so old, so weary.

“Where’s my karma? Eh, Doctor? Where’s all the good we deserve because, quite frankly, I’m losing my patience here.”

Then. It hit.

She saw herself, with a gentle nudge from her somehow unwounded TARDIS, saw everything. The Doctor wasn’t entirely sure what hurt more; the general feeling of hopelessness and worthlessness, or how horrific her own reflection looked. She avoided her own gaze, eyes turning to the side and body slumping slightly. With a weary sigh, she turned away, walking slow and trailing her hand across the surface of the console.

“I’ve been working so hard...I’ve been so good, but still I’m lonely. Stressed. Hurting.”

Hazel-green eyes turned towards the starter lever. What exactly was stopping her from running away again? Why was she sitting around, torturing herself like this? Her fingers inched towards it, drawing a line up the bronzed metal until they wrapped around the handle. It was cool, calm, inviting. Running away was all the Doctor knew - they had done it for so long now - that maybe it was all they had left. The more she stared at it, the more her fingers twisted to grip the handle harder.

_ ‘I’ve been so good...why is it getting harder? Why is it always getting harder to be good? Why can’t it just be easy?! Why can’t anything good happen to me for a change?! I deserve something good, don’t I, where the hell is my karma?!’ _

Again, the thoughts came back, louder and louder still until the darkness started swimming in the corners of her eyes. She clung tight to the lever, jaw setting firm and teeth grinding together as everything finally exploded. With a withheld scream, she swung the lever down, feeling a sharp pain in her shoulder from the force behind her movement. The TARDIS sprang into life, wheezing and groaning, a spectrum of lights flashing around her in time to all the chaos inside her head. The Doctor kept her gaze fixated on the central crystal column, watching it bob up and down as all of time and space twisted around her. Despite all the quaking and shaking, she remained resolute, standing firm and bracing both hands against the curved copper. As the console room quietened down again, the Doctor stared at the doors, eying them with a mix of fear and curiosity. She hadn’t input any coordinates, done anything at all to guide her ship. Quite frankly, the telepathic circuits could have landed her anywhere. Except, maybe not. Because there was only one place swirling around inside her head, taking up far too much space, more so than necessary.

She needed to see what was out there.

Filled with determination, the Doctor took long, strong strides towards the door. She grabbed her coat along the way, sliding it over her arms as she moved, before pausing in front of the double doors. With a shaky breath, she pulled them open, momentarily blinded by golden light and hit with burning air. Surrounding the TARDIS, was dust and sand of a deep burnt umber, underneath an orange sky. As her eyes adjusted, she was it before her; the burnt remains of the Capitol and the Citadel. The Doctor’s face fell as she looked upon the remains of her home, one hand braced against the upper part of the doorframe, the only thing keeping her stable. She could taste the heat in the air, the char and ashes, it was bitter and deeply unpleasant. The more she stared, the more her thoughts raced, the more the same words were repeated over and over and over again. Endlessly.

_ ‘I’ve been so good. I’ve been so good. I’ve been so good. I’ve been so good.’ _

A slow and creeping pain began to worm its way through her skull, pinching and twisting and constricting the nerves in her brain. The same convoluted darkness stung her eyes, bleeding through the cracks of conscious and rational thought. Everything began to shift and shimmer, crackling and flickering and becoming something else entirely.

_ ‘I’ve been so good. I’ve been so good. I’ve been so good. I’ve been so good.’ _

The mantra grew louder and louder, swamping all of her senses and splitting her mind further and further apart until reality warped entirely. No longer was she looking at the burning orange remains of destruction. No longer was the citadel there, gone in its entirety. The twin suns hung low in the sky, blistering and blinding, cascading light across the cliff tops and down beyond to the dust and mounds below. A child stood on the cliff face, watching everything, back turned towards her. The Doctor knew that child. How could they ever forget such a thing again, the thing that was taken away from them. They watched themselves. The life they had forgotten. The life that was only going to get lost to misery, pain, torture, trauma.

There was nothing in the rule books to say that the Doctor couldn’t rewrite their whole timeline. If there was...that wouldn’t stop them.

The Doctor ran, arm outstretched, trying to shout. She tried to shout and scream and get the attention of themselves, the child they had lost, the life so cruelly taken away from them. She tried to grab them, pull them away from the edge, but the child vanished into burnt ashes. The Doctor stumbled, fell down to the ground, a painful sob finally erupting from their body as dust and dirt flew into their face. Before she could scream - and how badly the Doctor wanted to scream and shout and cry - they saw a shadow creep across their vision. Eyes wide, they looked up and saw her. Scrambling to their feet and standing back, crouched and afraid, she saw her again. The other forgotten memory.

_ ‘I’ve been so good. I’ve been so good. I’ve been so good. I’ve been so good.’ _

She stared at the Doctor, mouth agape, and felt the cold stare back. She just stood there, watching her, an unreadable expression across her face. The Doctor wanted to say something, anything at all, but all she could do was watch as the Other Doctor was blown away into the wind, the same blackened ashes fading away into nothingness. She wanted it to be over, wanted everything to end, have the shattered and broken delusion fade away and leave her alone. What had she ever done to deserve being created so broken, so tragically broken? But no, the darkness pervaded, a sense of dread washing over her as a low chuckle came from behind her. It couldn’t be...it shouldn’t be...The Doctor quickly turned their head around to the sound, face paling. She saw him. Just standing there. A twisted grin on his face, malice in his eyes, simply taunting her. Goading her. Except, he couldn’t be there. Shouldn’t. She had seen him-

A simple tune, a vibration, a startled Doctor.

With a jump, the Doctor looked down at her pocket, before quickly turning her gaze back around. Everything...everything was fine. The Master wasn’t there. Neither was the Other Doctor. Nor the Child. Just the broken and burnt remains of the Citadel in the distance. The noise persisted, calling her back to some kind of reality. Opening the side of her coat, she pulled out her old flip phone from the inside pocket. Shaking and numb fingers carefully flipped it open, thumb tapping a button to bring up the messages. It was Yaz. How long had it been since she had last seen her? How long had it been since she had last seen any of them?

‘You’re still coming, right? We miss you :)’

‘See you soon’

Quickly shoving the phone back inside her pocket, the Doctor made her way back to the TARDIS. She swept inside, closing both doors behind her before turning around and resting her hands against the wood. All she could think about was losing them. She lost everyone she had ever cared about, her Fam was not going to be an exception to the rule...were they? Her anger had faded away, leaving room for only the sadness to pervade again. She couldn’t stop them, she never could. Feeling the familiar sting in her throat and across her eyes, she dragged her hands down the doors and twisted around, arms trailing behind her as she stood in the liminal space between the exit and the steps towards the console. Hair shrouded her face as she looked down at the floor, trying to keep any more emotions from bubbling over. She couldn’t concentrate for long, however, as the cold blue lights started to flash and her TARDIS once again whispered to her in melancholic beeps and whines. She looked up at the console, broken and forlorn.

“I don’t want to say bye…”

She could feel her fingers clenching against the sides of her coat, hands balling into fists as she even entertained the notion of saying goodbye to them. Saying goodbye to anyone. Goodbye was not a word that the Doctor could ever say they enjoyed to think about. It was one of the worst words - if not the worst of them all - and it didn’t bear thinking about. Except, she couldn’t stop thinking. All she could do was think. As she stood there, eyes glazing over as she vanished off into the depths of her own mind, she could feel them. All of them. Every single one of the people she had ever been. Or at least, the ones she could even remember. So many of them had been lost to her, and for what? What purpose did it all serve? What purpose did she serve? What kind of Doctor was she?

“Give me some diagnosis of why I’m so hollow...Doctor.”

Her former selves grew stronger and stronger inside her head, and she could almost swear they were surrounding her. Physically. Slowly and surely appearing around her, forcing her to deal with whatever dark thoughts were swirling around inside her head. Oh, what would they think of her? Would they be proud? No, surely not. She was a disgrace of a Doctor. A waste of a Doctor. She couldn’t do anything right...she had lost them all...again.

“Please...give me some instructions. Some guidance. I promise, I’ll follow it.”

She was desperate now. Begging them. Whoever was inside her head, whoever was still there as a voice - a whisper - she wanted one of them to answer. It didn’t matter who. One through to twelve...just...someone. She needed someone to talk to, someone to understand, someone to make sense of it all. The Doctor needed a Doctor themselves...they couldn’t be who they needed to be, not anymore. Her arms slowly came around her chest, trying to contain everything in herself as her eyes fell to the floor and her head dropped in defeat.

“I try to explain the good faith that’s been wasted, but after an hour it just sounds like I’m complaining…”

The presence of them all was so strong, she could sense them all. They were all inside her head, taking up space, except none of them were talking. She had talked to herself so many times before, to one of them, so why weren’t they helping her now? Why were they ignoring her? Tears started to well in the corners of her eyes, chest tightening exponentially as the feeling of company vanished and she was left alone. A mind full of darkness, growing and growing and threatening to consume her again.

“Wait! Don’t go away! Please!”

She couldn’t be alone. Not again. Why was nobody helping her?

“You say that I’m better. You say that I’ve moved on. I’m supposed to be the embodiment of that, but why don’t I feel better?!”

It wasn’t anger this time, but fear that drove her forward. The Doctor cried out, hands coming into her hair again as she felt the familiar hum of incessant thoughts again. It was too much, far too much, she was so over stimulated it was starting to burn. Tears ran down her cheeks, pain split her skull, her hearts felt like they were about to explode and nothing was stopping it. Nothing was making the hurt go away. She couldn’t take it anymore. The Doctor fell down onto her knees, trying to contain the sobs that shook her body, trying so desperately to hold everything together. But it was hopeless. What hope was there left? She was a mess. A complete mess. Was there even any point in carrying on? Not even holding her chest could keep anything in. Not even the comfort of arms around her did anything. Her voice, finally, was dull and hollow, eyes opening to stare through the gaps in the grated floor.

“The universe is brilliant, it works in such mysterious ways...but I don’t think it’s working for me anymore…no, not anymore...”

As her tears dripped through the gaps, she closed her eyes again, sighing, having no energy left to fight any of it anymore. She was so tired, in so much pain...could she really keep doing this? Was there a point to it all?

“Doctor...should I be good?”

The silence that followed spoke more than any words could, and that was all the Doctor needed to hear. Perhaps it was time to just give up altogether...perhaps it was time to stop.

**Author's Note:**

> Link to the animatic: [Watch Here!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N5j7bqYiO8E)


End file.
